


Only You

by TruebornAlpha



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College AU, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Smut, Mutual Pining, Sciles, Teen Wolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 22:52:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2891021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott and Stiles have been best friends for ages and the benefits just seemed like the next natural step. It was supposed to be something easy without any strings attached, but Scott couldn't keep his heart in line. It's time to stop pining for something that would never happen now that Scott's finally met the perfect guy to help him move on.</p><p>Unfortunately for Stiles, you never know what you really want until it's gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only You

Blunt human teeth closed over his throat, dull nails dragged down his chest, and Scott felt like he was being torn apart. His knees dug into the mattress, hand slipping against the sheets. Sweat pooled down his spine, a hot wet tongue licked it up and all he could do was groan.

"Stay with me, Scotty," The words rasped in his ear, an obscene purr that left Scott mewling. Stiles’s long fingers slipped around his neck, and Scott’s pulse jumped against his palm. When Stiles rammed in deep, Scott forgot how to breathe.

Scott’s back bowed beautifully under pleasure, his arms buckling until he fell forward. Insistent hands grabbed at his hips, forcing them to steady, and Stiles couldn’t lose the slick pull of his clutch.

"I can’t. I can’t I can’t oh God Stiles-" Scott begged, his body trembling under the onslaught. Stiles was going to break him, and Scott would let him; he’d never felt so good. He pumped himself, hard and fast, mouth falling open in a silent scream as Stiles played his body like a game. A sharp tug forced his head back, and suddenly Stiles was kissing him, stealing the air straight from his lungs. He jolted with every thrust, shaking like a leaf. When Scott came, he saw stars. Stiles was right behind him.

"Scott, hey Scotty-"

The wolf closed his eyes like he could black out the rest of the world, but Stiles pushed at him, shoved at him until they were both pressed into the same pillow and there were too many tongues in Scott’s mouth. They kissed because they loved kissing, sighing into each other’s mouth with a lazy familiarity that made Scott’s toes curl even after his orgasm left his nerves scrubbed raw. Their noses still bumped because Stiles’s was dinky, and Scott was always trying to find a way to get closer, but Scott pawed at his face until they started again. It was hard to hold a grudge when Scott couldn’t stop smiling.

"Dude, stop, you’re gross," Scott whined when Stiles’s hips started to jitter, and Stiles laughed into his mouth.

"Your face is gross!" Stiles huffed, but he kept trying to squish Scott’s into the sheets. Scott let him, because he could tickle across Stiles’s ribs and make him squeal.

Scott brushed sweaty bangs out of the other boy’s eyes, ruffling damp locks and making faces. His heart was doing that thing again that uncomfortable, fluttery thing, and it only got worse when Stiles’s cheeks blew up like a chipmunk’s. A phone rang, and they both jolted, Stiles flailing impressively like he'd practiced it. Scott got an elbow to the belly for his trouble, and he considered sitting on Stiles as the brunette looked through his phone, maybe nap while he was at it.

"DUDE!" Stiles squawked, and ruined all of Scott’s plans. The werewolf grunted at him. "Jenny texted, you know from the library? She wants to look at my notes! You know what that means."

And it was suddenly a little easier to not smile.

"She liked my mooooves," Stiles filled in, bumping his hips in an awful reminder of why no one should ever let him dance. Scott snorted. Stiles was too eager to rush to his own rescue. "Hey, don’t be like that, man." He held a hand to his heart, trying to look as earnest as possible, which mostly made Stiles look constipated. "You will always be my best butt buddy -awk!"

Scott did not regret shoving Stiles off the bed.

"I’m sleeping," he huffed, as the human tried to detangle himself from - himself. Scott pressed his face into his pillow, ducking under their duvet. He told himself he wasn’t hiding. It didn’t really sell. "Don’t scare this one off, dude. No one likes your moves."

Stiles pulled back the blankets and dropped a sloppy kiss to Scott’s cheek. Scott did not find it endearing. _He Did Not._ “You like my moves.”

"I beg to differ." Scott wrinkled his nose. "But the next time I get to be on top."

Stiles laughed, smacking Scott on the bum. He liked the way it jiggled. “You wish, dude.”

Scott kept one eye open as Stiles practically bounced around the room. He was twitchy on the best days, running on a kind of frantic, scattered energy that kept him busy with a thousand ideas all at once and not enough focus to finish any of them. There were times his attention was brought sharply to bear on a problem, picking away at it until he found a solution, but he even then he was rarely still or at peace. Watching him like this, fussing over getting cleaned up and forgetting that he had been getting dressed halfway through so he could check his phone again as if the message was going to disappear was just so Stiles that Scott couldn’t help but smile. After all they’d been through, it was nice to know they’d made it through without losing too much of themselves. It also didn’t hurt that Stiles looked damn cute hopping around on one leg trying to get his pants on.

That was probably a thought he shouldn’t allow, things like that led to problems. They were best friends with a hell of a lot of benefits, but one of the unspoken rules was not to rock the boat. They’d always been too close, two dorky awkward boys who never bothered to make any other friends because they just didn’t need them. His mother called them clingy, Ms. Morell called them co-dependent, neither one was really right. After all the battles and losses and scars from high school, they’d found other ways to take care of each other. It wasn’t much of a stretch from sharing a bed so the nightmares wouldn’t come and soothing fears away with gentle hands to something that burned hotter and left them with a sense of sticky, relaxed satisfaction. Scott couldn’t even remember how it started, who kissed who or why they let it go so far, but once they started there was no stopping. It wasn’t even weird, which was weird by itself, and the sex was good. Great. It just became another part of their friendship, the next step in how they took care of each other.

It didn’t mean anything.

He’d smiled to himself when Stiles had first talked about Jenny (and Ashley and Karen and Morgan). It had never been with the same intensity as his ‘thing’ for Lydia, but Stiles loved the obsession almost as much as he loved the girl and it made Scott happy when he had a new crush to talk about for hours. Stiles would sprawl over him, talking forever about how ‘she doesn’t even notice me Scotty’ and ‘I’m totally hot now, how can she resist’ until he’d end up trying to smother his best friend with a pillow. He knew he should be more encouraging, but it was hard when he was still slick from Stiles’s body and lazy with the afterglow. His friend had no idea what it was like to be covered in the scent of someone else, like a brand that only he could pick up on or how much he liked that secret little possessive way to mark the two of them. It might not have been right and Scott was a little embarrassed by himself sometimes, but no one but another wolf would know and…well, he’d want another wolf to know.

“Just give me a little heads up if I have to clear out of here tonight, okay?” Scott tried not to sound grumpy as he reburied himself back into the bed. “I’m not really looking forward to sleeping out in the common room. Those couches are super nasty, dude.”

“I plan on being super nasty myself.” Stiles waggled his eyebrows  as the wolf groaned again. “Dude, that’s funny!”

“Will you just go already? Good luck, have fun, be safe.”

“Yes, Dad.”

"I’m your daddy now?" Scott teased, without lifting his head. He had Stiles’s righteously indignant squawk memorized. It haunted his dreams sometimes.

"That never happened." Stiles warned. If there was one thing that could make him focus it was embarrassing sex stories - and a really good fart joke. Maybe if Jenny (or Ashley or Karen or Morgan) figured that out, Scott would have to look a little closer at the smirk that tugged on his features, but for the moment, he was sticky and sleepy, so he grunted at Stiles’s general direction and drifted off.

And Scott kept drifting - right through Chem lab.

There was nothing on earth quite like the first moment of horror that came after looking at your phone with only 15 minutes left to the end of class. The most useful thing Scott had learned in college was how to get dressed in under forty seconds. He flew across campus, barely remembering to close his bag, but by the time he got to the laboratories, people were already filing out, and he felt like dirt.

"Jake. Jake!"

A lanky brunette with bright brown eyes looked up and Scott nearly tumbled into him. Jake towered over him anyway, but at that moment, Scott felt about two feet tall. “Dude, I am so sorry.”

"It’s cool. Your uh, shirt’s on backwards." Jake clutched his bag towards him with more intent. Then Scott groaned and stripped off his top, and Jake had to hold on tighter.

"I’m so sorry. I’m a humongous ass," Scott insisted, and  the pillow creases across his face helped his argument so much. "Like a giant - giant walking ass just bouncing everywhere. I can’t believe - did Dr. Mills let you buddy up with someone else?"

Jake laughed so Scott dared a smile, carefully elbowing the lab partner he was sure he didn’t deserve, and Scott still managed to miss the way he went all red. “It’s really really cool, Scott. I mean it. It wasn’t anything really hard today. You can borrow my notes?”

"Only if you let me take you to lunch." Scott pleaded. "I’ll make it up to you. I swear, I’m such a friggin ass, dude."

"It’s kind of hard to miss." Jake nodded, tilting his head and froze. Before he could smack himself, Scott wiggled his offending butt, looking behind him, and Jake might have fainted a little.

"I guess it is." Scott wasn’t sorry at all. "So lunch? I mean, if you’re not busy. I swear, I’m not the lamest lab partner ever. Or well, it’s kinda closer to dinner…"

"Both," Jake piped up bravely, and he valiantly ignored the way that made no sense at all. "Might as well have both?"

“Linner it is. It’s sort of like brunch, but with more food and less French Toast. Unless you like French Toast and then it’s totally okay if you want that.” Scott sighed, wishing he could stuff a sock in his mouth. At the end of high school, he’d almost been convinced he’d mastered the ability to make friends and have a social life. He’d gone from having Stiles and only Stiles to a pack of people that actually liked him and considered him a friend. Once he got to college, he quickly realized that all of his friends had fallen together because of supernatural circumstance and while that was still awesome, he wasn’t any better at the whole normal human interaction thing than he’d been when they were twelve. Stiles kept saying it was because he was too nice, but he’d been adapting just fine. His best friend had never really been lacking in ego and even being shot down was taken as a challenge instead of a setback. With his pack scattered around the country, Scott found himself falling back into that quiet awkward space he’d lived in for so long. He could do the werewolf thing, fighting for his life and being the alpha seemed easy in comparison to going to a frat party or trying to balance schoolwork and lacrosse practice in order to maintain his scholarship. It had been a long time since he’d just been human, maybe he’d forgotten how? Maybe he was holding onto Stiles too tightly or maybe he just missed home?

Ugh, he was probably just lame. Scott didn’t notice how Jake seemed to light up at his rambling or the shy smile, so used to thinking he was terrible at making friends that he didn’t notice how easily it happened these days.

“Okay, Linner. Or maybe we can do that thing where we have breakfast for dinner and I guess lunch too now. What’s it called when you just eat all the food at once?”

Scott laughed as Jake’s smile grew brighter. “I think that’s called my every day, dude. Hey, so since I’m such a sucky lab partner, how about you come over and we can go over today’s notes. That way I can take a crack at doing the homework first since I owe you one. I’ll drown you in take out so you don’t have to go to the dining hall and it’ll give me a good excuse not to get sexiled tonight.”

“Roommate problems?” Jake raised an eyebrow in surprised, half convinced there’d been something going on with Scott and his roommate since day one. They’d always seemed like they were attached at the hip and he’d heard they’d known each other before college, he’d just assumed.

“Nah, it’s not that bad.” The wolf was quick to dismiss any sort of criticism directed at Stiles, feeling guilty at the sudden wave of jealousy. “Besides all the Cheetos he’s ground into the carpet and stuff. He’s just out tonight, I figured it would be less distracting than the library. Last time I was there, I almost got trampled by some Kappa Epsilon brother streaking the stacks.”

Jake swallowed before nodding, trying not to show his nerves. Hanging out with Scott McCall in his room. No problem at all!

“Great, it’s a date! Meet you back at the dorm in an hour or so?”

 _Date??_ “Yeah, perfect. See you then.”

Scott had less than sixty minutes to blow through his room and remove all the gross that he and Stiles made by being themselves. There were things around the dorm that Jake did not deserve to see. The delivery guy arrived early, and when Jake showed up, Scott was really looking forward to their chances against homework.

"You can put your stuff anywhere. It’s fine," Scott offered. Something about welcoming a stranger into his den had his wolf preening and spoiling for a fight. Except Jake smiled, and Scott felt all sorts of awesome. Then Jake went all red, and Scott kind of had no idea what he was doing.

It was his time to, maybe not shine but to make up for being totally lame. Over the night it became pretty clear all too soon that Jake was a godsend and should have been granted sainthood for getting through the lesson alone.

"I mean it, dude," Scott insisted, going over his copybook for the fifth time. He’d jotted down additional research areas and how to break up their report, and everything generally sucked. "You shoulda called me. Do you have my number?"

"Oh - I. No?" Jake bit out, and despite how cruel their teacher had turned out to be, he was having a hard time caring. Scott sat shoulder to shoulder with him, and every time one of them moved, their knees knocked, and Scott was just so funny and smart. Jake handed his phone over so quickly it might as well have been on fire. He didn’t immediately notice when the dorm’s front door opened, but Scott was looking up so Jake did to. It was the roommate.

"Hey Stiles, thought you were getting notes," Scott greeted, and it was nothing but mocking regret he felt for his friend’s early return. Stiles huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Jenny really was looking for notes." Stiles would not look out of place with a storm cloud over his head. "Who’s he?"

"Stiles, Jake. Jake, Stiles," Scott introduced, handing his phone back with a smile that made Jake question what was in their take out. His stomach was doing somersaults. "Got homework to finish. I messed up big time. Jake’s helping out."

Stiles grunted something like an agreement and stalked his way to his room. He was allowed to not feel great. Yelling extra loud at the people on X-box Live was his own business.

They were allowed to have friends outside of each other, obviously. Scott had just been having a little trouble with it. That was all. Stiles always knew he was a giant douche, but there was something gratifying about being the one Scott looked to first when Stiles didn’t exactly have to return the favor. In many ways, Scott out-lapped him, and it was nice to have an edge. Stiles just had to do something about that knee-jerk urge to punch anyone cling to Scott who wasn’t him (and maybe his all around douche-ness needed improving, too, whatever).

But at the end of the night, when Stiles emerged from his bedroom, hungry and cranky, Jake was still there, and still practically sitting on Scott. That wasn’t cool.

-

There was just something about chemistry that seemed impossible. Maybe Scott just wasn’t any good at figuring out formulas or maybe it was some lingering trauma from Mr. Harris’s class back in tenth grade. He’d been one of the most evil people Scott had ever met…before being ritually sacrificed and all. Jake was patient with him and he smiled, which was nice. It had been a long time since he’d actually spent any time with someone besides Stiles and there was a blossoming hope that this could actually be a new friend. Maybe he wasn’t as terrible at that part of being a regular human being as he thought? He almost asked Jake to come back later when Stiles came home, picking up on the other boy’s irritation. If he’d been rejected by Jenny, he could need a little bro-time to rant about things and feel better, but he was gone too quickly into his room for Scott to react. Guess he didn’t really want to talk yet. He thought, settling back against his lab partner.

He probably shouldn’t have leaned in as close as he did, but Jake would flush and his skin would heat in all sorts of interesting ways. It was probably wrong of him to think it was cute, though he was utterly shocked when his lab partner leaned back against him. It was a cautious thing, testing out the waters and dancing around things as they both worked quietly on their homework, Scott not even sure if he was allowed to even consider things. People actually flirted, right? Real, normal people who didn’t get all furry and worry about tearing up the sheets with claws when they made out. It was okay to think someone was good looking, what was the harm? Stiles was talking about a new girl every week who ‘might be the one, Scotty,’ there was nothing that said he couldn’t make a new friend.

Later in the night, it wasn’t even a question about what was right or what was allowed. Equations blurred on the pages of his notes and Scott stifled a yawn, too tired to even focus his eyes. There had to be a way to somehow get on a regular sleep cycle, this was killing him. No wonder he slept through class. Jake was warm and welcoming beside him, a comforting weight that pressed against his side and didn’t demand anything he wasn’t ready to give. In fact, judging from the other boy’s slow blink, he felt just about the same. Scott shoved an empty pizza box out of the way and tucked his face against Jake’s arm, promising himself to just rest his eyes for five minutes before pulling it together and finishing their work.

"Scott what the Hell?!"

Stiles' yell jolted him awake. So much for five minutes.

Scott startled, and about a bajillion things toppled to the ground. Beside him, Jake gasped. Suddenly there was a warm, steady weight around his shoulders, and when he looked up, Jake’s face was so close. The brunette blushed all the way to his ears. It kind of made up for all the books, calculators and junk that had fallen over.

"Sorry, dude, I kinda - must’ve fallen asleep or something." Scott apologized. He wasn’t sure who he was apologizing to, but the way Stiles scoffed made it sound like he thought he deserved it more. Something nagged at the back of Scott’s mind, a petulant, whiny voice that came out more often than people thought, like that time when Stiles called shot gun three times in a row or when they got a particularly large mountain of homework. He immediately felt bad for it. Stiles had a rough day. Scott could call him out on being a butt later.

"Whatever," Stiles grumbled, trudging to their half-kitchen to raid everything he could that didn’t require cooking.

"It’s okay," Jake said instead, fighting back a yawn and losing terribly. Scott could see the instant he realized where his arm was, and for a moment, they both stared at it. Then Scott smiled, and Jake didn’t know how not to.

"Did I drool on you? That’d be super gross." Scott huffed. "Next time, maybe we should take our chances at the library. Can’t fall asleep there. It smells funny."

Jake laughed, a little too shrill, a little too high, but Scott McCall was still touching him and he didn’t think he smelled funny! He smelled so unfunny! It was amazing. “It’s kinda late.”

"Oh. Yeah, shoot, dude, you better run. We can do this again some time? Well - we do gotta finish this."

"Yeah."

"Yeah…"

They both jolted when Stiles’ door slammed, and Scott’s face screwed up like he was trying to bite back a laugh. Jake wasn’t sure what was funny, but if he sat still long enough, maybe Scott would never stop touching him. Scott was still smiling when Jake said goodnight. There was a terribly goofy expression on his face, and after a beat, he headed back to his room.

When Stiles slipped in barely ten minutes later, Scott was already fast asleep.

-

Getting out of bed was almost impossible, though Scott didn’t have a class to get to and very little motivation to leave the warm nest of his sheets. He stretched all the way down to his toes, feeling surprisingly good about the world. He wasn’t quite sure what had happened last night or if he maybe imagined there was something more than just an awkward study session, but just thinking about it made him smile. With one last full body stretch, he rubbed a hand low across his stomach and managed to slip out of bed, searching for some juice. A run would wake him up, he should get a few miles in and then maybe text Jake to see if he wanted to grab lunch? That was a thing you did with friends, right? It wasn’t like their social options were limitless on campus and it would be nice to have someone join him, especially since there wasn’t much of a chance to drag Stiles out of the room.

The other boy was glued to his laptop already, or maybe it was still. His eyes smudged with circles, though that wasn’t new for as long as Scott had known him. He could practically see the storm clouds settled around him, whatever Jenny had said to him must have been rough. “You get any sleep last night?”

Stiles grunted a reply and Scott sighed, repeating the same lecture they’d done a thousand times. “Dude, you need to shut it down sometimes and actually sleep like a human being. I’m going to install one of those auto-shut down programs on your computer that forces you off.”

“I’m busy, Scott.”

“Uh huh, and how many hours did you lose on youtube?”

“…depends. What time is it?”

“It’s get your butt off the computer O’clock. Come for a run with me, it’ll help you feel better.”

“Or, I could sit here and do anything else except for that.” Stiles rolled his eyes, pushing his laptop away and going dramatically limp against their couch. “That sounds way better, dude.”

Scott shrugged, rooting around for his shorts and a passably clean t-shirt. “Suit yourself. I’m gonna grab lunch afterwards, you want me to bring you anything?”

“Your ass in those running shorts?”

“Funny.” Scott pulled out his phone, hesitating a moment before sending a quick text to Jake to invite him out and hoping he seemed casual about the whole thing. He missed his cue to banter with Stiles and didn’t see the scowl aimed at his back. “See ya in a bit.”

That was the first of many scowls he’d miss.

-

Stiles wasn’t mad at Scott. Stiles never got mad at Scott, and for best friends who’d known each other since it was acceptable to pee on a sandcastle, that was saying a lot. Sure, there were times they fought, and times Stiles would’ve happily shaved off Scott's eyebrows, but he never got really mad at Scott. Mostly because Scott was there to help smooth Stiles’s easily ruffled feathers before he could really blow a gasket.

There was no one to smooth things over now, and Stiles’s feathers kept getting ruffled. But that also meant Scott also wasn’t around enough to notice Stiles fretting, and fretting in general was really tiring. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t really be mad at Scott.

The worst part wasn’t that they lived together or that Stiles saw his best friend’s dirty underwear more often than he saw his best friend. The worst part was that when Scott came home (to their dorm, their home!), he was so giddy and happy that Stiles didn’t want him to see his ruffled anything, feathers or otherwise. It was all Jake’s fault. Jake Jake Jake Jake, Jake and his stupid hair and stupid face and his stupid arms, Jake who took Scott out to big, awesome parties (Child Trafficking Lectures with free pizza), and super fancy restaurants (that hotdog cart in front of Student Union, where the Latino Association was hosting a street dance), and sight-seeing (morning jogs).

"Hey, look who finally came home!" Stiles snapped, not looking up from his laptop when their dorm’s door opened.

"Dude, I was here two hours ago." Scott countered, frowning. "You were asleep."

"Whatever." Stiles made an honest attempt at rolling his eyes out of their sockets. If he wasn’t so focused on it, he would have noticed Scott trying to sit on him “Yipe!”

Scott squirmed all over him, wriggling his butt like he wanted to turn his roommate into a pancake, and Stiles forgot being mad about anything. Then Scott went for his ribs and he howled. Scott grabbed him by the cheeks, squeezing mercilessly before he dropped his truth bombs. ”Stiles, get over it.”

And Stiles forgot how to breathe.

"It’s Jenny’s loss. Stop being a dick. She doesn’t know how much she’s missing out on."

All at once, it felt like Stiles was melting into their chair, arms automatically going around Scott’s waist.

"Yeah, okay."

It satisfied Scott, who huffed proudly and squirmed a little more. Stiles struggled to pin him down (up?), resting his chin on his best friend’s shoulders. This was all he wanted. They were going to be fine.

"Hey, let up, man. Bed time. Gotta be up early." Scott murmured. Stiles held on tighter.

"What why? You don’t have class."

"Jake’s invited me to this thing." And nope, nothing was okay. Nothing was okay at all! "I’d ask you to come, but-"

"I’m coming."

"What?"

"What?" Stiles threw right back, snorting into Scott’s throat. "I said I’m coming, dude. Or is this some you and Jake thing? What if I wanna go?"

Scott, bless his soul, looked so perplexed Stiles refused to stop hugging him. “Stiles, it’s a 5K run.”

Fuck.

“Fine.”

Scott stared at his friend in surprise, pulling back to raise both eyebrows at Stiles. There was no way Stiles ever volunteered to run unless he had to and ever since they’d finally managed to evade the clutches of Coach Finstock, he’d barely hit the gym, let alone joined Scott for a run. His frenetic energy meant that he never gained a pound no matter how much beer he drank or how many cheese doodles he stuffed in his face, but he never volunteered when Scott would slip out most mornings for a few miles around campus. The wolf couldn’t break the habit and he found he loved the hour or so of solitude to wake up and get his energy up for the day. It always helped with control. Now that they weren’t constantly fighting for their lives, he had to find a way to tire his wolf out or it would find the worst ways to escape.

“Okay then, the run’s at 8:00 am tomorrow, so we’re gonna be there around 7:00 or so and grab a light breakfast. I’m really proud of you, buddy! It’s for a good cause and it’ll be nice to get you out of this room. You need to get your mind on something else. There might be some nice girls there looking for a hot stud like you!” Scott tried to be upbeat and doing his best to ignore the way Stiles’s breath was hot against his neck. Maybe he could have been a little bit more sympathetic, he really had been spending a lot of time out when Stiles had needed him. Best friends weren’t supposed to leave their bros hanging after a rejection and it had been a while since they’d…since they’d blown off steam together. Bros helped bros with that too and any other time, Scott would have enthusiastically volunteered but things didn’t seem right anymore. If he tipped Stiles’s head back to kiss him, he was sure his friend wouldn’t resist. If he moved his hips just a little, a slow teasing circle, he’d be flat on his back before he’d be able to say a word. It would be too easy to give in and sleep better with Stiles wrapped naked and warm in his arms at night.

He could be such a fucking masochist sometimes.

“Get some sleep.” He ordered, reaching out and closing Stiles’s laptop with a click. “I’m worried about you, man. You’re way better and if someone doesn’t notice, then it’s their fault. No more of this all night moping, I’ll get you up early and we’ll go for pancakes after the race, okay?” He nuzzled against the side of his best friend’s head, blaming it on the wolf’s instincts to mark the things that belonged to him. Or that would be wishful thinking. He brightened, forcing a brilliant smile and carded his fingers through Stiles’s hair until it stood up in short brown spikes. “Jake and I are planning on hitting up the IHOP afterwards, I know how much you like their bacon. You’re invited if you wanna go?”

Something warm and comforting spread through Stiles, claiming each frayed and tired nerve until he was sure he’d melt through his chair. He pressed his face into the crook of Scott’s throat, trying not to think about how easy it would be to kiss him, and it was as if all his sharp points were covered in jelly. Everything was squishy and a little sticky but sweet, so sweet.

Stiles didn’t know how to calm down without Scott. His grip tightened around his best friend’s waist. They were more than matching puzzle pieces. Scott had found a way to get under his skin, and being without him stopped being normal.

Stiles liked to think he ran their show, but without someone to impress, none of it mattered. Except he never had to impress Scott; he’d always had his approval. Stiles thrived on winning, even if the game was rigged in his favor. Everything was right when he was with Scott - until it wasn’t.

"Does Jake like pancakes too?" Stiles snapped before he could stop himself. He wished he had stopped himself. Maybe then he’d have been able to think up a better comeback, but whatever. Weren’t pancakes still sacred? Jake the Flakey Snake couldn’t leave well enough alone, and Stiles couldn’t believe how much time Scott was spending with someone so boring. That was the worst thing a person could be.

Stiles couldn’t decide if seeing Scott with Jake was worth the risk of not seeing Scott at all. Also, it was seriously putting a damper on his wit. “Whatever.”

The next morning wasn’t as bad as Stiles thought it would be. It was worse.

He hated himself one kilometer in, cursed everyone he knew by two, and by the time four rolled around he was crawling. But the absolute worst part was that Jake wasn’t a participant. He was the guy who handed out water at the end of the run. Stiles’ water tasted so bitter.

Werewolf stamina wasn’t limitless, but a five kilometer race wasn’t enough to tax Scott's reserves. He kept the pace slow, preferring to stay with Stiles instead of racing on ahead, knowing his friend would need some encouragement to get him going. Scott really was proud, it was so out of character for Stiles to volunteer for something like this, maybe it was a sign that things were really getting better. He should push himself more often, there was a lot of amazing parts to Stiles Stilinski that other people needed to see.

Jake was grinning at him as they crossed the finish line, Stiles sprawling in a heap across the asphalt. “Great job, you two!”

“Thanks, man.” Scott put his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. “That was a lot of fun and ACK-!” He stood up to a face full of water and a lab partner who wasn’t sure whether to laugh at his own actions or apologize profusely. “RUDE!” The wolf shrieked, grabbing Jake and yanking him into a hug against his now soggy shirt and rubbed his sweaty face on his neck. “You deserve this, you giant butt.”

“It’s tradition! Hey stop, oh gross. You’re so gross, help!” Jake tried to shove Scott away without actually trying to shove him away, red to the tips of his ears.

“Uh huh. If you soak me, I soak you. Those are the rules of war, dude.” Scott was beaming, running high on adrenaline as he slung his arm carelessly around the other boy. “Hey Stiles, you okay? I am literally starving, I could eat four stacks of pancakes all by myself.”

“It’s on me.” Jake pipped up, flushing again as Scott turned those grateful, beautiful brown eyes on him. “Seriously, I’d like to treat you.”

“Thanks, Jake. That’s really incredible of you.”

“Nah, you’re the ones who actually ran the whole way. I was just a volunteer.”

“Volunteers are always important, you’re the ones who helped organize this whole thing for charity. That’s so amazing, don’t ever put yourself down. I think you’re great.”

Ducking his head, Jake stammered something about going to get the car and made his escape before he did something embarrassing, like swing Scott McCall in his arms romance movie style and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe.

He was completely oblivious to the dirty looks sent at his back. Stiles was finding out that his nausea was proportional to the distance he was from Jake the Jerk. He was all over Scott. It was gross and pathetic. Scott didn’t even like guys like him. Scott liked guys who were like - not clingy and gross and pathetic, yeah. Did Scott even like guys? Taking it up the butt wasn’t the same as liking guys, and neither was being able to point a hot dude out in the crowd. _No wait,_ that was actual nausea Stiles felt. The human doubled over and groaned. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

It was like magic. In a blink, there were strong, sweaty, smelly arms around him, and Stiles flopped himself all over his best friend. He amped up the groaning. Scott had to understand just how sick he was.

"Knock it off, butt breath," Scott snorted, but he helped Stiles hold his cup of water like he was five years old and prone to spilling things (or fifteen, actually, that still applied).

"I’m not gonna make it, Scott. Everything’s going dark." Stiles moaned,  and Scott laughed. How could Scott stand Jake, seriously, even his laugh was annoying? The dude couldn’t even laugh right. He sounded like a three-legged donkey that was losing another leg. Not like Scott, Scott laughed just fine; Scott's laugh was downright charming. A large hand rested over Stiles’s forehead, and Stiles tried to lick it.

"Hey, Jake?" Scott asked. "I think I’ll have to take a rain check. Stiles is kinda warm. Do you have more Gatorade?"

Oh.

Stiles moaned like his life depended on it, shaking his head. He didn’t see how stricken Jake looked, genuinely worried about Scott’s weird roommate. After a beat, Stiles added, “Blue. Blue Gatorade.”

"That’s okay. I’ll go grab some. I just gotta look for - here’s some water." Jake hastened to add. "The car’s right there. You can go ahead. I’ll just find some."

"Thanks, Jake. You’re a life saver."

Scott’s smile was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen, and when he looked at Jake like that, his stomach twisted in knots. He leaned over and kissed Scott on the cheek. For a second, they both stared at each other like they couldn’t quite believe it. Then Scott’s roommate started making gagging noises, and Jake excused himself to find that Gatorade. If he did it with a little spring in his step, well, no one could blame him.

Scott couldn’t keep himself from smiling, confused and a little excited? He would have put his hand to his cheek where the brief kiss lingered on the skin if his arms weren’t already full of a retching Stiles. He helped his best friend over to one of the wooden picnic tables that lined the road, settling him down and sitting next to Stiles to examine him thoroughly. “Dude, I think you overdid it a little bit. Just sip the water slowly and breathe. You should have told me you needed to drop out, I would have gone with you.”

Stiles shot the other boy a look. There was no way he’d be responsible for making Scott give the ‘disappointed face’ if he could help it, even if it meant dragging himself half dead across the finish line.

“Hey! So there’s a couple types of blue, I wasn’t really sure which one you wanted?” Jake came jogging back with a bottle and handed it to Stiles with an apologetic grin that was not returned.

“Thanks, man. I can't say that enough,“ Scott piped up. He really was a nice guy and Scott could appreciate someone who’d go out of their way for others, especially when they were nice to Stiles. It was always a major plus in his book. Not to mention Jake was kind of good looking and he liked the way his skin flushed when he was feeling uncomfortable. “I’m gonna take him home and make sure he’s okay, maybe we can catch up later? I can meet you for an early dinner in the quad before we do that documentary tonight.”

Jake lit up with that same bright unfiltered joy that Scott often channeled. “Absolutely! No problem, it’ll be a… a date.” He swallowed hard, hoping he projected a little more confidence than he felt.

The wolf ducked his head to hide his smile. “Yeah, that sounds good to me. I’ll see you then.”

“Sure! Wow. Um… yeah. Sorry, I’ll… go. See you tonight. For the date. Ha… okay, really leaving.” Jake tripped over his own feet and beat a hasty retreat before he managed to embarrass himself anymore and Scott laughed, draping an arm around Stiles’s sweaty shoulders.

“Man, we’ve got to get you home and into a shower so you can take it easy for a while. If you’re up to eating breakfast later, I can grab you a bagel but I don’t think you should have much until you’re sure your stomach is up to it. You think you can stand up?”

"Yes." Stiles replied sullenly, mouth pursed in a moue of disapproval that he hoped Scott mistook for nausea (but also, kind of not). He shoved his face into Scott’s sweaty gross shoulder and ewwww’d for all he was worth. It felt like he was swimming in body grossness. Stiles was pretty sure humans weren’t made for this sort of thing. “… No. Piggy back me, dude.”

"You’re such a giant buttface." Scott laughed, bright and easy and wiggled in Stiles’ grip, making his friend squirm and flail. Stiles maybe loved it when Scott laughed. He was such a giant goober at the best of times. He just wasn’t sold on Jake the Flake being the reason for it. "I’m pretty sure I saw Ashley somewhere. Wanna show her that all the great athletes piggy back?"

"No, she might make me go walking or something." Ashley with the cute overbite and bouncy ponytail. Scott’s face looked so stupid today. "I’m over it, man."

Scott’s stupid face wasn’t listening.

"Dude, he kissed me."

"I saw." Stiles grumbled darkly.

"He asked me on a date!"

"I saw, too. Like I was literally right here, Scott. Dying."

Scott punched him the arm, but gently, ruffling Stiles’ hair only to look at his hand in disgust. “Come on. You’re so gross, bro. Be so glad you can’t smell yourself.”

Stiles roared, raising his hands in protest and tried to smother Scott in his armpits. They took a while getting home. Somewhere along the line, Stiles managed to finish off his Gatorade, and everything was right with the world. Except Jake didn’t go away. Jake did the exact opposite of going away. He was everywhere.

—

"Dude, your butt head boyfriend touched my laptop!"

"Uh hey, that was me. Sorry, but you should stop leaving it everywhere, Stiles or someone'll sit on it again." Scott said. He didn’t even look up from his phone, fingers flying over the touch screen as he texted. He completely missed Stiles’s totally exasperated face. Stiles had really outdid himself on it. It was super exasperated. Scott didn’t see it, but somehow, he knew it. "Dude, what is your problem?"

Maybe that was Stiles’s problem, because Scott didn’t even have to focus on him to know him, and suddenly, he wanted to do everything in his power to make sure that he figured out what his problem was before Scott could. Stiles was agitated and jumpy in his own skin, like he hadn’t been for a long time, in a way that was petty but its own brand of scary. And Scott would know why. Scott knew him as well as Stiles knew himself, and Scott would totally know if he wasn’t busy making sappy faces at his phone. Urgh. ”I haven’t gotten laid in forever.”

But hey, that got Scott looking.

If it had been any other time, there would have been an obvious answer. They’d tumbled together for a lot less. It was an simple thing to work out all the stress with someone you trusted (and that was incredibly hot) without any complications or heartache. At least that was how it was supposed to work and watching Stiles fairly buzzing out of his skin, Scott had to admit he was tempted. It would be easy to just pull his friend down and scratch that itch, all he had to do was go back to pretending that his heart didn’t try to leap out of his chest whenever Stiles put hands on his body or the way he craved the touch.

Maybe he was just frustrated too, he could blame it on the fact he hadn’t gotten laid in a while either. He was taking it slow with Jake, finding his footing and realizing just how out of practice he was. There hadn’t been anyone since Kira and they’d never been able to actually cross that line into something physical. There’d never been anyone except Allison. And Stiles. Did that count? It was strange to kiss someone who didn’t know instinctively how to fit together, he wasn’t sure how to learn someone else’s body now. They made out a lot and it was nice, but there were a lot of awkward moments as they fumbled and laughed together. Scott kept waiting for that thunderbolt, there’d always been that spark that ignited immediately and consumed him. He’d known the second he saw Allison and the first moment Kira had smiled. Love was sudden and hit him hard. Except with Stiles. Why was he the exception to so many rules?

Jake was nice. He was a sweet boy with warm eyes and daring hands. He pushed just hard enough but never made Scott uncomfortable and more than anything, he liked Scott. It should have been perfect, but if it was working so well, why was he thinking about his best friend fucking him face down into his bed until he screamed.

Scott licked his lips and swallowed hard. “Sorry, dude. Jake’s coming over tonight, we’re planning on binge watching the rest of Elementary. I can be free tomorrow though? I’ll take you out on the town and be your wingman, we’ll see if we can’t fix your dry spell and maybe you’ll actually meet someone nice? You know I’m really good at telling people you’re awesome, I’m sort of the best wingman ever. We’ll get a couple of drinks, go somewhere with a good crowd and I’m sure the girls would be all over you. Why wouldn’t they be, dude? I’m even volunteering to let you sexile me if you want to, I’m willing to make the sacrifice.”

"After you move-xile me, dude? Low blow," Stiles replied darkly, features pinched with abject disapproval. Mentioning Jake tended to make his stomach do unhappy things, and Stiles was feeling exceptionally gassy today. "And I am the most awesomest awesome in the world, being my wingman is an honor.”

"Sure Stiles. You’re the best," Scott said, channeling the patience of a saint. Then his phone dinged, and whatever his boyfriend texted made his entire face light up like someone had flicked on a switch. Stiles used to monopolize the market of making Scott McCall look like the biggest goober in the world. They were supposed to be past this. They weren’t in high school anymore, and Stiles had actually passed the kindergarten class that taught him how to share, even if he’d had to retake it a few times.

"I’m going out."

"We’ll go out tomorrow! I’ll tell Jake you said ‘Hi…?’" But Stiles was already out the door.

—

The next night, Stiles got five telephone numbers and twice as many dances. Scott even gave him money to buy other people drinks. It didn’t matter that half of them were for freshmen who probably shouldn’t have been anywhere near a club, but they thought Stiles was the coolest thing ever. Did kids even say cool anymore?

It was terrible.

After every song, after every conversation, Stiles turned back to look to the one quiet corner of the club, where Scott and Jake were hiding, drinking apple juice and domestic beers and comparing Pokemon cards.

Stiles paid for a round of shots and drank half of them. He regretted it at eight in the morning, when he was rolling out of an unfamiliar bed and ducking out from under an unfamiliar arm. He wracked his head, trying to remember a name but came up blank, and he looked forward to burying himself in his own bed, or better yet, Scott’s bed. If there wasn’t someone already occupying it. Somehow, Stiles found the strength to pull himself to his feet and begin the long trek back to his dorm.

"Stiles, hey Stiles!"

He immediately wished he hadn't.

Stiles growled, legitimately growled, like he was the one with a furry little problem and a penchant for peeing on trees. He walked faster, kept his head down, but Jake bounded up to him, overeager and grinning, and woah that look really did only look good on Scott. Stiles’ head throbbed in a way that had him too willing to blame a hangover.

"Hey, how’s it going? How’s Mandy?" Jake asked. He didn’t even stop jogging as he spoke.

"Michelle," Stiles sneered. He was pretty sure her name had been Mandy.

"Michelle. Sorry," Jake corrected himself, flushing all the way to his ears. That got him to stop jogging. Stiles’ expression turned ugly. "You guys seemed to have a lot of fun last night. It was really great. I don’t go out a lot, but you guys were-"

"Look, Jake shut up." Stiles cut him off. Jake hadn’t gotten the cue to stop smiling. "This? You-me - this thing? You don’t have to do this. You can tone it down. You’re not going to be around for long. I don’t know what Scott’s doing with you, but once he decides to stop slumming it, you’re gonna be gone. He’s so far out of your league, I don’t know how he sees you, so you can quit the ass kissing and run on home."

And Stiles didn’t look back.

-

Jake didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to. It was easy enough to see that something had happened to him. Scott could practically feel the stress and unhappiness radiating from the other boy and he didn’t even need to use his werewolf senses. He tried everything he could to coax Jake to smile, telling him stupid stories about his human exploits and his adventure getting locked out of his room a few weeks back in nothing but a towel when he’d left to shower and Stiles had gone somewhere without leaving the door open for him. He plied him with snacks, it was hard to be upset with a face full of Funyons (there was FUN right in the name), but nothing worked. Eventually, Scott just curled into the other boy, wrapping the human in his arms and kissing his shoulder until he could feel the tension ease from his body.

When Scott mentioned Stiles and felt Jake jerk away slightly, he knew who was to blame.

The wolf was livid, so angry that red started seeping into his eyes as he stalked back across campus towards his room. He’d always known Stiles could be cruel and he’d never played well with Scott’s other friends. He’d been snarky with Allison and even Kira, and was way off the charts with Isaac, but this was different and it had to stop.

Scott found his friend headed towards the library, hat pulled low over his ears and music blaring so loudly he could hear it twenty feet away. He didn’t even stop, hooking his hand into the handle on Stiles’s backpack and yanking sharply, throwing the boy off balance with an undignified squawk. He dragged Stiles back to the dorm, ignoring the flailing struggle with little effort, showing more of his enhanced strength than he’d ever dared since they’d gotten to college. Scott shoved him into their room and slammed the door so loudly he was sure he heard a crack.

“WHAT THE HELL, STILES?!”

He was greeted by a blank look that quickly turned into a defensive scowl. “What the fuck has your panties in a twist, man?”

“You shut up and listen.” Scott stuck a finger in Stiles’s face and snarled, the sound anything but human. “I don’t know what the fuck you did to Jake, he won’t even tell me. He’s hurt and upset and I know it was you even if he’s pretending that everything’s fine. You don’t get to do that! He’s a nice guy, Stiles, and I like him. I haven’t been with anyone since Kira and it’s about damn time that I found someone who makes me happy.” Someone who isn’t you. Someone who’s nothing like you. “He’s a nice guy, he’s sweet and thoughtful and funny and he likes me! Do you know how long it’s been since someone actually liked me? You can go out any night of the week and find anyone you want and I…you have Mandy, I have Jake. I’d tell you to just back off him, but that’s not good enough. He’s going to be around whether you like him or not, so you better fucking learn to be nice to him.”

"I like you!"

"THIS ISN’T ABOUT YOU!" Stiles never flinched. Of course Stiles never flinched. Scott loved that about him, but right now, he couldn’t fucking believe him. "Can you pull your head out of your ass for one minute and whatever this - this stupid petty thing you have with Jake is, get over it."

He’s not good enough for you, danced on the tip of Stiles’s tongue. You shouldn’t be with him. His hands were shaking but not in fear. Scott could feel the anger radiating off of him, but for once, he didn’t care enough to stop. There were lines you weren’t supposed to cross. He might not know Jake as well as he knew Stiles, but he knew Stiles. He knew him better than Stiles knew himself.

"You’re choosing him over me then?" Stiles snapped. He didn’t care what it sounded like, cheeks splotchy with color, and he hated the way he sounded. He hated how it felt like Scott saw right through him.

"I’m telling you to stop acting like a selfish jerk. You’re not. You’re supposed to be my best friend, Stiles." And Scott wondered if this was it, if Stiles really meant to drag this out. Stiles was a vindictive jerk on the best of days, and if he pushed his hand, they both knew who Scott would pick at the end of the day. It really wasn’t fair. Scott turned away from him, biting back a snarl that barely disguised a resigned sigh, but he had enough sense to grab his gym bag on his way out. It was a change of clothing, at least. He hoped Jake didn’t mind if he crashed on his couch for a while.

Scott was all apologies as he sat on Jake’s couch, embarrassed but not knowing anywhere else to go. His boyfriend (boyfriend!) was being amazing like always, sitting with him without pushing him for answers and making him know that everything was going to be alright.It was strange being on this side of things, especially when he was the one who had tried to make Jake smile just a few hours before.”

“Are you sure you won’t mind? I don’t want to just force myself into your place, it’s a stupid thing, I’m so sorry.”

“Scott, stop.” Jake silenced him with a kiss that left the wolf tongue-tied. “You can always stay here whenever you need. I’m not going to complain about getting to spend a little time with you. I’m just…I’m sorry about Stiles. It’s going to work out, you’re best friends. Whatever happened, you’ll be fine and back to normal in no time.” Scott could hear the hitch in his voice and the skip in Jake’s heartbeat, but appreciated the sentiment anyways. Whatever Stiles had said to him, Jake was still trying to smooth things over and wasn’t trying to drive a wedge between them. That was even unfair to think about, Jake would never do anything like that.

“Thanks.” He drew the human closer and kissed him breathless, trying to drive out the hurt and anger humming in his bones. He was not going to think about Stiles tonight, he was going to concentrate on moving on and being happy with someone who wanted him. This wasn’t a way to get back at his friend, this was his choice and he was ready to let go. Tonight had made it so clear that he was being an idiot for holding on to something for so long when it didn’t actually exist. He wasn’t sacrificing something wonderful and real for that. Jake was sweet and generous in all the ways Stiles could never be and even if he didn’t leave bruises healing in Scott’s dark skin or played his body with an expertise that left him desperate, it was nice. It was what he needed and he was so ready to just let go.

When he woke up with Jake’s face tucked against his chest, all Scott could feel was that he’d used him.

"Hey." Jake mumbled, smiling guilelessly. His arm was asleep, tucked under Scott’s side, his face soft with easy affection. He didn’t even try to blink away sleep. Everything about him screamed lazy contentment, but Scott felt like he’d been caught red-handed, like there was too much on his face that he didn’t want Jake to see. Before he could, Scott pulled the human closer, pressing closed-mouth kisses across every inch of him he could reach, and when Jake laughed, Scott tried to think of something to say that wasn’t ‘I’m sorry.’

—

Jake was still buzzing with energy after breakfast, face sticky with syrup that ended up on his pancakes as often as it did his face. He wasn’t sure he was allowed to be this happy. It almost scared him. Everything felt lighter, brighter even, like the sun was working overtime or maybe that was just the way Scott smiled. Scott, his boyfriend, his actual boyfriend - who stayed the night and grunted when he slept, who took his coffee with three sugars and enough milk to turn it bronze.

When someone knocked on his front door, he didn’t think anything about it. Scott was still in the shower, and maybe they could hang out a little afterwards, even if it was just doing some homework. Or maybe they could do a date thing, and Jake could probably find something they could try. Scott was always such a good sport, and Jake kind of really enjoyed impressing him. But Stiles Stilinski stood on his welcome mat, and it was embarrassing how quickly all the wind could go out of his sails.

Stiles was staring. He knew he was staring, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t care that he made Jake cross his arms over his bare chest and tug up jogging pants that were far too short of him. Stiles recognized those pants. Even if he hadn’t at first glance, the large ‘Beacon Hills High’ logo on the front told him enough, and all at once, Stiles couldn’t breathe.

Scott wasn’t supposed to be serious about him. Scott was just supposed to be playing the field, or getting out of his slump, or dipping his toe in the water or something. Except Stiles knew his best friend, and Scott didn’t just fall into other people’s beds, even when he was mad or emotional. Stiles was just - what they were doing was fun, nothing more, except Stiles’ heart was racing, and there was a darkening bruise on Jake’s left shoulder that Stiles couldn’t look away from.

"Scott’s in the shower." Jake was saying, voice wary in a way that should have made Stiles proud. He just felt sick. "He’ll be out soon… And for what it’s worth? He doesn’t like fighting with you I’m sure-"

Don’t talk about him. Don’t talk about him like you know anything about him. Stiles almost yelled. He wasn’t entirely sure how he stopped. He still managed to surprise himself. “I’m sorry.”

Surprising Jake didn’t feel like much, not now that Stiles knew he’d already lost. “I was - a jackass, like a really, really sick jackass the other day. I didn’t mean. To say things, and it was a bunch of crap. I was… Hungover and stupid. Really, really fucking stupid.”

His tongue felt like it had swollen to twice its size in his mouth. Stiles needed a drink, the kind that hit hard. “You make Scott happy, and that’s… That’s really important. Scott’s really important.”

Jake wasn’t sure what to make about the confession. Scott cared a great deal about his best friend, that much was clear even if he didn’t know how someone as wonderful and loving as Scott could spend so much time with someone so obviously terrible. Maybe it was an opposites attract thing? Or maybe they’d just been friends for so long it was hard to see how mean and bitter Stiles really was? None of that made any sense, but there was one thing that became blindingly clear. He was a bright boy, he was even acing organic chemistry, all Stiles’s indignant little huffs and eye rolls and disgusted looks behind their back when he thought no one was watching. “You like him!” He honestly didn’t mean for it to sound as much like an accusation as it did.

Stiles gaped for a moment before rallying, pulling on his best scowl. “He’s my best friend, of course I like him. I’m just worried about him, he hasn’t really  been with anyone in a long time and I thought that- Look, it doesn’t matter what I thought. If he’s happy with you, then I’m good with this.” He waved his hands around at whatever this was. Jake squinted suspiciously and it took more willpower than he thought he had not to punch him in his stupid face.

“Okay. Apology accepted, I totally get it. You’re looking out for your best friend, that means a lot. I promise, I really like him. I’m not going to be some creep who does something horrible or hurts him.”

It would be better if you did. Stiles smiled, all daggers. If Jake was awful, it would have made hating him rational instead of like he was kicking puppies all the time.

“He should be getting out of the shower soon, you want to hang out for a bit? I’m sure he’d be glad to clear the air with you.”

“No, no it’s okay. I don’t want to intrude. I just wanted to explain and apologize for being a giant asshole, not mess up your plans. I’m just gonna go home. Tell him I went home.”

Jake frowned a little before nodding as he watched Stiles slink away, unable to shake the feeling that Stiles didn’t mean a word he said.

__

Scott closed to door quietly behind him and threw his bag on the couch. He’s only been gone two days and already it felt strange being back in their room, like he didn’t belong here anymore. Nothing had changed, his shirt still draped across the back of the chair they’d rescued from some curbside and Stiles’s socks were strewn around the room including the one that ended up on top of their makeshift coffee table. Something still felt off.

“Stiles? I’m uh…I’m back. Jake said you came to see him, that was a really nice thing you did. I appreciate it, it means a lot to me. Thanks, man.”

Then Scott had an armful of gangly loser, and despite everything, he couldn’t stop smiling. Stiles bullied his way into his grip, wrapping his arms around him as tight as he could, tucking his face into his best friend’s neck and inhaling deeply. Long, clumsy fingers dragged across Scott’s neck, painting his skin with no sense of subtlety. Then Stiles smooshed Scott’s cheeks between his hands, and subtlety flew out the window.

"Dude, you’re back!" Stiles beamed, taking Scott off-guard with his enthusiasm. He had no idea that the brunette had started off wanting to play it cool, wanting to be totally chill and suave about his blatant scent marking. But then Scott’s stupid face was back, and Stiles was maybe willing to admit to himself that he didn’t think he’d return.

Because Jake was terrifying. With his ridiculous hair and asshat nose, and seriously, Stiles used to think the Hales were the only ones who could have such fucking offensive eyebrows. What made Jake worse was that he was maybe, possibly, actually right. It had shocked Stiles too.

Stiles had spent the first night after Scott left, waiting in his room for his best friend to drag himself back to their apartment, shamefaced and embarrassed and pleading for Stiles’s forgiveness as he rightfully should be. Then Scott hadn’t. The hour ticked closer to three, and Stiles trudged across campus to the library that was open all night. He checked every cubicle, every study room, every shelf and fire escape, then grumbled the whole way back to their dorm only to realize that Scott really, really wasn’t coming back (that night, but whatever). It hurt, like someone had punched him in the nads with a frozen rocket fist, and when Stiles covered Scott’s bed in expired cough syrup, he would claim it was in self-defense. Scott would be so mad when he came home. He hated the smell of cough syrup.

Nine hours was a long time to sit in an empty dorm. And meeting Jake afterwards made Stiles go for ten.

He liked Scott. He liked liked Scott, and jeez, didn’t they get enough high school shit shenanigans with the Alpha Pack? He liked Scott! He liked-licked-liked Scott. Oh God, he wanted to LICK Scott. Sure, that was basic logic. Everyone should want to lick Scott, but he wanted to take Scott out in the morning, watch Saturday morning cartoons with him, and copy his homework while making out. He wanted to see Scott’s smile when he was soft and vulnerable and no one else was allowed to.

Stiles world crumbled under the weight of such simple truths, truths he thought he should have already known. He and Scott had been doing the homework and make outs for a while now, but Stiles only got what it meant to be the only one who could make out with Scott when someone else had that option. He was such a giant tool.

It took Jake the Flake to point out the obvious, and now that he knew, he couldn’t ignore it. Stiles was always the kid who’d pick at his scabs until they scarred, unable to leave good enough alone once he noticed something weird and creepy, and he’d wear the scars like trophies. He wanted to pick at Scott until he could wear him like a trophy.

Stiles couldn’t go back, and forward was a maze of potholes and roadkill. It was a good a good thing that Stiles wasn’t committed to that metaphor.

"I screwed up, Scott." Stiles murmured, voice too soft, too heavy, and it made the werewolf’s expression soften almost instantly. Scott hadn’t to think about wrapping himself around his best friend in a long time. It came naturally, so he held him now, embraced him tightly, and cutting off an apology Scott didn’t need. Sure he wanted to hear it. Stiles could be such an ass - but he didn’t need to.

"Yeah, you did," Scott agreed. He didn’t pull away, but Stiles tried to squirm closer. "Why do you smell like cough syrup?"

Stiles hid the guilty grin and mumbled something about doing laundry, peeling himself off of the werewolf long enough to strip the bed and throw everything into the dirty clothes bag with a nervous laugh. Scott raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. His friend was trying and was happy to see him, he could pretend that nothing was wrong. Stiles was putting in the effort and for him, that was monumental. There wasn’t any reason to ruin it over something petty, especially when Scott was so proud of him. The wolf crawling into Stiles’s bed to escape the smell was purely an accident.

Scott knew that he shouldn’t, but he really hated the smell and wouldn’t have been able to sleep. It had absolutely nothing to do with burrowing in beside Stiles and wrapping himself up in the human’s scent as they fell asleep watching Total Recall for the thousandth time. They didn’t have to give up everything just because he was getting serious with someone, they’d been like this for as long as he could remember. It was normal, there wasn’t any reason to worry.

What he wasn’t prepared for was breakfast in the morning. He’d stretched out in familiar sheets, warm sunlight playing over his skin and barely starting to wake up when he was hit with the smell of syrup and meat that yanked him into awareness. There was nothing that a piece of crispy bacon couldn’t forgive and Scott was blissed as he crunched porky goodness in Stiles’s bed without even a lecture about crumbs. If this was an apology, maybe they should argue more often. Scott stayed in, texting Jake every few hours but choosing to stay and make sure that everything was alright with his best friend. Stiles did his best to ignore the way Scott smiled when his phone buzzed or resent even the smallest intrusion into their bro-time. Even when he wasn’t here, Jake found a way to worm himself into their lives and take away something that should have been just Scott’n’Stiles.

It should have been just Scott’n’Stiles. It had always just been the two of them, even when it hadn’t. Even when Scott had gotten bitten and their whole world tipped upside down or when he’d fallen so in love with Allison and Kira, or when he’d lost them both. Even when Stiles had tripped head over heels for Malia, they’d been an inseparable pair and that should have been enough. It always had before. He didn’t have any idea when it had all gone off the rails or how he didn’t see it sooner. He was who figured things out, he could fit the pieces together to see the big picture and now he was feeling like he’d been blind. Nothing was different. He still had Scott, they were still inseparable and even more so now that they lived together. Dating someone else had never changed anything between them except now it had changed and Stiles still struggled to understand what that meant.

But Stiles knew one thing. They weren’t going to stop being Scott’n’Stiles. Jake had started it, but Stiles was going to end it.

"Dude! Did you just fart? Gross!"

"I’m sharing my essence, Scott. I’m sharing!”

Stiles was a little worried about it. The last time he pulled a scheme off without Scott involved was probably when he was four years old, and the game had gotten a lot more intense since then. Failure was not an option. (Also killing the guy probably wasn’t either; Stiles had learned a thing or two since high school - probably.)

Scott didn’t see it coming. It started off simple, with some strategic scheduling.

"Can you believe it, Scott? Those fuckers are having a Brawl Tournament."

"Stiles, don’t call the RA’s-"

“Brawl?! Who even plays Brawl anymore? Whatever, I’m gonna show them. I’m gonna mop the floor with them, and boogey on their graves. You in?”

"I stopped doing your chores for you when you were seven, dude."

It was a full day event, with far too many overenthusiastic fart-buckets gathered around the fifth and sixth common rooms of their dorms. Being in front of a bright screen wasn’t new for either of them, but Stiles paid for both their buy-ins. When the day was up, Stiles tucked in a hard-won gift card to Starbucks and two Pizza Hut coupons into Scott’s front pocket, and Scott realized he hadn’t touched his phone all day.

"Buy yourself something nice, baby," Stiles winked, patting Scott’s boob. Scott tried to make his smile anything but painfully fond, and failed. He made up for it by wet willying Stiles through a wall.

A weekend of brotimes was the best, but the breakfast thing didn’t stop. The cooking breakfast thing stopped, because no one had enough money for that much bacon, but suddenly Stiles was pushing warm Pop Tarts into his hand and showing up in his bed with hot coffee. He wouldn’t stop feeding Scott, popping up in between his classes, even if it meant Stiles had to get out of bed early for his own. There was that one time he showed up for the math class he had with Jake, three coffees in tow - and fell asleep fifteen minutes into it, sprawled across their table, between Scott and his boyfriend.

Scott trailed his fingers through Stiles’s messy hair, the boy so exhausted that he hadn’t even managed to style it. It was an unconscious gesture, tender and affectionate for his best friend. He did try and it was appreciated, though Scott thought most of what Stiles did was wonderful. Jake wasn’t quite as fond, unsure if the overenthusiastic friend Stiles was any better than the standoffish dickface Stiles. At least Scott was happy, he kept telling himself that was the most important thing.

“Is he okay?”

“Mmhmm.” Scott didn’t look up from his notebook and didn’t stop the lazy scratching of his nails across Stiles’s scalp. “He’s just not really a morning person.”

“So I’ve noticed. Is there a reason he’s being weirdly nice?”

“He feels bad. He’s not big on saying he’s sorry, so this is how he apologizes. Coffee is always acceptable.”

“Oh.” That did make sense even if Jake wasn’t sure he believed it. People didn’t just switch from jerks to thoughtfully nice, especially people like Stiles Stilinski. Maybe he was just a little bit unfairly jealous with how well Scott got along with their best friend? It was weird watching them together, they sometimes didn’t speak but he could tell they’d communicated something and the both of them would laugh without being able to explain what the joke was. They even moved in sync, he wasn’t sure they noticed that.

“Hey, so my friend is letting me borrow his car for the weekend if you wanted to get away from here for a while. We don’t have to go anywhere fancy, I just thought maybe it would be nice if we got off campus for a bit. Maybe we could go camping or something?” He asked hopefully and was immediately crushed when Scott’s brown eyes flickered with worry. “O-or not, it’s okay.”

“No, that’s not it. I’m sorry, I just promised Stiles I’d help him with a project for his sociology class where he has to interview a bunch of people.” He reached for Jake’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “I’m really sorry. Maybe we could go next weekend? I’d like to be able to get away somewhere with you, it sounds really nice.”

“Of course, yeah. I get it, no big deal. We can do it next weekend.” Jake realized this was a war he didn’t know if he could win.

Something distinctly blue crept into Jake’s scent, and Scott squeezed his hand tighter. He might not have known his boyfriend as well as he did his best friend, but he’d known him long enough of figure out that Jake had a selfless streak that wouldn’t be beat and an awful tendency to try and hide when he felt hurt.

"Hey," Scott admonished gently, swiping his thumb across Jake’s knuckles. "I mean it. Nothing’s gonna stop us getting out of here next weekend. Look I’ll even put it on my calendar, and I’ll show you fancy. We’ll make s’moreos, dude and I’ll bring little umbrellas to put in your water bottle."

Scott got Jake to laugh and it was so worth it. He was a nice guy, with a sweet smile that warmed Scott all the way down to his toes. Scott just wanted him to be happy. They held hands behind Stiles’ back for the entire lecture, and no one took notes. Scott could learn to love Jake, he was sure of it.

Stiles just didn’t give up.

Scott thought the coffee was going to be the end of it. Then he remembered, things with Stiles didn’t exactly end.

He was not above bribery, or many other things, actually.

"Headphones! Where’d you get these?"

"Nicked ‘em. No wait kidding! Kidding! You just said you needed a new pair that one time whatever Scott, I listen to you. Get over it."

—

"Stiles, why are there seven pizzas in our room?"

"Can you believe it, dude? Someone just left them in the hall."

"STILES!"

"Tell me I’m lying. Tell me I’m lying!"

—

"Weed. Really, bro?"

"Werewolf weed. Don’t underestimate what I can do for you, Scotty.” And when Scott flushed, Stiles wiggled his eyebrows twice as hard.

—

"Walk you to the library?"

"I’m not gonna get lost, Stiles."

Stiles didn’t say that he’d already lost Scott once. He wasn’t doing it again.

And through it all, Scott couldn’t stop smiling. Stiles knew, he was looking now. Scott was his favorite scab, and he couldn’t forget what he’d been given access to. He thought he knew all Scott’s smiles, but there were shy ones he’d never noticed before, hopeful ones that wouldn’t leave his mind, exasperatedly fond ones that - okay, Stiles knew about those, but they just seemed extra nice now.

When the weekend came around, Stiles was doing victory laps. Between them, they interviewed 27 people in under 36 hours. Stiles didn’t want to hear about anyone’s views on the justice system for at least a week. His face actually ached, but it still manage to feel good. He owed it all to the wolf riding shotgun.

"I couldn’t have done it without you, Scotty."

Scott snorted, and didn’t look away from trying to figure out how many times he’d accidentally written on himself during the interviews. “Duh. You can’t do anything without me. I’m the best.”

He looked up from his hands, throwing Stiles a smile that was all dimples, and shit shit shit, Stiles really wanted to kiss him. Stiles wanted to do a whole lot more than kiss him. “You’re right.”

"You’re so full of- wait, really?" Scott looked delighted. This wasn’t fair. The Jeep squealed in protest as Stiles took a sharp right, and Scott squealed along with it, thrown against his door. "Dude, what the Hell are you doing!?"

"We’re going to that fancy burger place downtown!"

"Why!?"

"Because I want to feed you fancy burgers!"

They decided at the same time that Stiles sounded ridiculous, and burst out laughing. But Scott didn’t know, Scott couldn’t have known, that Stiles really wanted to feed him so many fancy burgers. Scott’s phone dinged, and Stiles acknowledged that he was beginning to hate that sound. He’d done so well all week at getting it to not ding. Scott grabbed it now, and Stiles convinced himself that he saw Scott’s smile dim.

"Hey Stiles, do you still have your sleeping bag? Can I borrow it?"

Stiles deflated before he could catch himself, plastering a smile on his face and hoped that Scott wouldn’t notice. “Sleeping bag? Yeah sure, you’re not planning to move out on me, are ya Scotty?”

“Hm?” The wolf looked up from his phone and rolled his eyes. “I am going to run away from home and live on the lawn or something. Dude, no. I’m going camping with Jake next weekend as like a little, uh…getaway.” It sounded strange to say it to Stiles, almost like he was guilty for admitting it and he shouldn’t be. There wasn’t anything wrong with spending a weekend with Jake, they were dating and it was going to be nice to get away somewhere new together, but he almost wanted to apologize for it. The last week had been amazing. It wasn’t like they didn’t spend time together as it was, but there was something he loved about all the attention Stiles was showering on him. It was like those lazy days before the world had gotten so complicated and they worried more about surviving to the weekend than what they were going to do on a Saturday night. He almost didn’t want to give it up, there was comfort in sliding back into those roles when it had been just two of them against the world.

It didn’t help when Stiles did that thing with his mouth, playing with his lip between his teeth and that tongue that could destroy him.

“Camping. You actually like camping?” Stiles did his best not to sound incredulous. “You know what happens when you wander around the woods at night.”

“I doubt anyone’s going to be biting me without an actual invitation, dude.” He teased, missing the look on his best friend’s face. “I like camping, remember all the times we used to hike out in the Preserve and stay the whole night when we told our parents we were at each other’s house? It’ll be fun and totally not full of wolves, when was the last time we were able to do something like this?”

Stiles bit his tongue and didn’t say a word. THEY weren’t doing anything, they hadn’t done anything like that in a long time. Not since the world got too dangerous for night trips out in the woods that didn’t involve his best friend’s life getting ruined because of his mistake.

“Stiles?”

“Yeah buddy?”

“Fancy hamburgers?”

“What about fancy hamburgers?”

“You missed the turn, we’re leaving the land of the fancy burger.”

Stiles swore under his breath, yanking the jeep around in such a tight turn that Scott yelped and clung on to the door. “Careful! Holy butts, you’re gonna capsize us.”

“Sorry, sorry.” The human muttered more to himself. Get it together, now’s not the time to get distracted. “When you come home covered in mosquito bites and poison oak and back pains because you tried to sleep on a rock, then don’t come crying to me. I’m going to spend the whole weekend sleeping in and then maybe catch up on some very important video gaming.”

Scott looked scandalized. “Without me?”

“And then jerk in your bed just to prove a point.”

“Stiles!!” The wolf whooped and giggled, not knowing his friend was only half kidding.

The human grumbled the whole way to their booth, through their order and through receiving their food. This was just a setback, Stiles told himself. A minor, insignificant, unimportant - “Jesus fucking Christ!”

Ketchup flew everywhere, and Scott howled, leaving his friend to fend for himself as his plate turned into the site of a tomato-y massacre. “Serves you right,” Scott snorted through a mouthful of fries. “What’re you trying to do? Strangle the ketchup bottle?”

Then he reached across and saved Stiles’s dinner by dragging as much ketchup as he could onto his plate and rolling his fries in them. Stiles wasn’t sure if this was an act of kindness or Scott regressing into his creepy ketchup-on-everything phase. He told himself he had more important things to consider. Getting them to the land of fancy burgers may have been a battle won, but the war was far from over. It was time to kick things into high gear, to bring his A-game, to have some kind of awesome training montage. Something brushed against his calf, and Stiles nearly jumped a foot in the air.

"Dude. You okay?" Scott’s face was scrunched up like he’d been Dutch Oven’ed, and concern was an unfairly good look on him. Stiles was beginning to notice that a lot of things looked unfairly good on his best friend, but nothing at all looked best.

"Yeah. I just." Stiles started, patting down his sides, only to freeze. "Where’s my wallet? Where’s my-"

Scott howled with laughter, until realization turned its ugly head.

"Stiles, no!”

"I can’t find my wallet!"

Stiles decided, he would bring his A-game after this. This was just a warm up.

Scott wouldn’t know what hit him.

This was actually the worst thing ever. The whole point of dating had been moving on from Stiles and finally accepting that some things were never going to change. The sex was amazing, but they were friends and were always going to be friends, that was the most important part. Stiles didn’t need to know the truth, it wasn’t important and he was letting go, except he couldn’t. Fooling around like they were thirteen years old again brought back a flood of feelings that would have been embarrassing for a middle schooler, let alone someone his age. Scott found himself slipping back into old habits, living for Stiles’s laugh and seeking out their casual, comfortable touch whenever they were together.

He was doomed.

He would catch himself too late, pulling back awkwardly and pretending that he hadn’t made the mistake. Stiles would just laugh and come up with another excuse to hang out. An old school LAN party against a rival dorm, taco night at the cafeteria (PLEEEEASE SCOTT, IT’S THE FOOD OF YOUR PEOPLE),  the midnight showing of Army of Darkness. Scott knew he was neglecting Jake and he needed to get this under control.

Scott shoved extra socks in his backpack and frowned, trying to remember what else he needed. Clothes and extra layers in case it got cold. Food in case they got hungry, sleeping bag in case they got sleepy. Small bag of not-so-legal substances if they wanted to chill out and a box of condoms for reasons Stiles didn’t need to know about. Anything else could wait, they were only going to be gone for two days and he trusted his werewolf senses to help make the trip a little easier. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay without me this weekend?”

Stiles was aggressive in his assault, unyielding and unforgiving. He tackled his problem from every angle he could think of. Failure was not an option, and there would be no prisoners. Scott never stood a chance.

Every free minute of his schedule was flooded by carefully planned Stiles Time, and a few not-so-free ones. He cornered Scott in a messy of pointy elbows and gangly limbs, creeping into his bed before dawn with half-mumbled excuses, and making sure their brains rotted with game challenges that lasted well into the evening. Scott’s sleeping schedule was shot by the second day, but Stiles just turned up the heat.

And it was kind of amazing. Stiles loved the obsession almost as much as he loved his target, but Scott wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met before. Scott caught onto his game before Stiles realized he’d decided to play one, and threw it back in his face. Stiles had forgotten he could do that, or maybe he'd just gotten used to it.

"Are you sure you want to go?" Stiles threw back, it wasn’t the first or the fifth time they’d had the exchange and every time, Stiles’s grin faltered a little more. He’d done everything he could. He knew, for sure, that Scott had barely texted Jake at all. Jake shouldn’t have been in the picture, but Scott was still going, and Stiles didn’t know why.

"Ha ha," Scott drawled. "I’ll leave all the video games and long nights to you, bro. Try to leave your room. Maybe you can call Mandy and -"

"We broke it off."

"What?" Scott rounded on him, and something flickered across his face, something that was all too quickly replaced by unhappy guilt. "Dude, you shoulda told me."

Stiles shrugged. “We never really got together after. So she didn’t give me her number on purpose? It’s okay. I’m not looking.”

But Scott reached out, his hand warm on Stiles’ shoulder, and Stiles itched to hold him. Everything he could have ever wanted had been in front of him all this time, and he was blind to it. Worse, he took Scott for granted. He’d always been jealous, always been petty and territorial, but Stiles had always thought that he could stand aside if someone made his best friend happy. He was wrong. It was tearing him apart.

"When I get back… We can go out again? It was fun last time."

"No, Scott."

"No?"

Stiles was unhappy, even as he tried to hide it but there wasn’t a way he could hide anything from Scott. He could read his friend, all the little twitchy movements and worse, all the unnatural stillness that spoke of something worse than just a breakup. Stiles had been his priority for so long that if there was something wrong, nothing in the world mattered except for fixing it. Scott stopped packing and sat on the bed, pulling Stiles into his arms without asking.

“It’s fine, Scott. It’s no big deal. It was just a hookup.”

The wolf didn’t say a word, tucking his face into his best friend’s neck and trying to ease the unhappy rhythms of Stiles’s heart. Was this way he’d been so insistent on spending so much time together? Stupid, he should have realized his friend was hurt instead of just wanting to hang out. He’d been distracted by his own life and hadn’t noticed that Stiles needed him.

“Tell me things.” Scott scolded gently, tipping them back on his messy bed, half covered with clothes that still needed to be backed. Limbs tangled together with a familiar intimacy he knew better than to pursue, but never wanted to stop. He shouldn’t do this, there had to be new rules now that he was seeing someone important, but they’d never been good at respecting boundaries. “You didn’t have to keep this a secret. If you want to take a break for a while, then that’s okay. We’ll do other things and it’ll be great.” He rubbed his hands down his friend’s arms like he could steal heartache as easily as he could take pain.

“I can stay.” Jake would be disappointed, but he had to understand that no matter how close they were, if Stiles needed him then Scott would be by his side. It wasn’t fair, but the wolf was incapable of making any other choice. He buried his face against his friend’s shoulder, resisting the urge to leave kisses against the skin. “I can call Jake and we’ll reschedule if you need me. I don’t mind, we can have some bro time and not think about anything more serious than what toppings to order on our pizza.”

Stiles felt the fierce burn of victory. Jake didn’t have anything on him, Scott would choose him every time and his competition needed to admit defeat. Even if he couldn’t have Scott the way he wanted, he could be sure that he didn’t belong to anyone else. If he’d been a better person, maybe he would have felt guiltier about that fact.

But Stiles wasn’t, and the lion’s share wasn’t good enough for him.

"It’s no big deal, Scott." He repeated. They were so close, Stiles swore he could forget where he ended and Scott began, except he knew he could get closer, a lot closer. Barely a breath of space between them, and Stiles still knew when Scott leaned into him, face drawn with concern.

"I didn’t really wanna see her again, and she didn’t want to see me. It wasn’t important." Mandy had been fun, and she seemed to think that Stiles was fun, too. Stiles wouldn’t move mountains for her. Stiles wouldn’t tear down the world for her. He wouldn’t for anyone else, anyone except Scott. "You’re important."

Scott shifted, but Stiles wouldn’t let him move away, pressing his face into his best friend’s shoulder. “I should’ve known. I should’ve - you were always there, whenever I needed you, whenever I didn’t. You’re the most important.”

His heart hammered in his chest, trying valiantly to jump into his throat, and Stiles wondered how long he had before it burst.

"Don’t go with him, Scott."

Scott almost tipped his head those few inches to close the difference, stopping himself was uncomfortably strange and foreign. He’d never meant to go this far, it was an easy careless thing because they trusted each other and he was the one who had broken that trust by mixing his heart into things. Stiles had just broken it off with someone else, he was vulnerable and he wasn’t going to take advantage no matter how he wanted to just pull the other boy down and block out everything else in the world.

Jake. He couldn’t do this to Jake.

“I’m always going to be here when you need me and even when you don’t, though to be honest, you always sort of need me.” He teased lightly. “I’m not going anywhere, you’re my best friend and that’s never going to change. Stiles, I…I messed this up and I’m sorry. I thought I could keep it all separate and it turns out I blurred the lines and that’s not fair to you or me. I’m not going to just sit back and wait for something that’s never going to happen and risk our friendship, it’s on me. Jake likes me and I want to see where this goes.”

No no no.

Stiles knew the moment Scott decided this was a bad idea. He could see regret twisting his best friend’s features, and maybe that was all Stiles needed to know that he’d lost, he’d really lost. Scott was the most stubborn person he ever knew, and when he made up his mind, changing it was more painful than pulling teeth. Except Stiles was stubborn, too. He was selfish enough for the both of them.

He grabbed Scott by the front of his shirt and crashed into him. Stars sparked behind his eyes and pain jolted through his teeth, but Stiles only pushed closer, closer. He knew Scott’s body almost as well as he knew his own. He’d spent hours exploring him, stealing every inch he could claim, only to realize that memories weren’t enough. Nothing but the real thing could be.

He kissed Scott like his life depended on it, tugging on dark locks until his best friend gasped, until his eyes fell shut and Stiles would take everything Scott could ever give.

"I love you," he begged. "Don’t go!"

For a moment, Scott was lost. He missed this, thought about this when he was alone and aching, compared every kiss, every touch to this when the hands weren’t Stiles’s and always felt horrible afterwards. He never meant to, but everything always came back to this. He surrendered, baring his throat and gasps of pain turning to something more feral and insistent as he dug his fingers into the human’s hips. He wanted this, there wasn’t any denying it.

Scott’s hands clawed beneath Stiles’s shirt, desperate for more, his legs spread wider to fit the boy between them. He kissed his friend until he couldn’t breathe and spots danced across his vision, pushing harder. Stiles LOVED him, his whole body sang with it. Everything he wanted just offered to him all at once.

“Stiles, no…” He pulled back, fighting his own instincts. “You-you can’t tell me that now. Not now after…god, do you have any idea how long I…” Scott shoved at Stiles’s shoulders, trying to push him off. “You don’t get to do this now! I tried so hard to move on and he’s a great guy. I can’t do this to him. You can’t love me.”

"Scott I love you! Don’t you get it?! I-"

"No, Stiles." Scott stressed, and something unhappy curled in his gut. Stiles said he loved him. That was all Scott had wanted to hear but. "You’re hurt. You just broke up and I’m - easy."

It was embarrassing to think about but that didn’t make it less true. Stiles used to be easy for him too, until there was nothing easy about it.

It was still better than saying that Stiles only wanted him because he didn’t like Jake. Scott couldn’t bear to be that honest.

"It’s not like that," Stiles tried to argue but he was blindsided. There was no way Scott could think that, no way. But Scott was already sliding out from under him, his bag in tow. Stiles watched his best friend stumble out the door as fast as he could, barely spitting an apology, and all his plans meant nothing.

It took Scott three minutes to remember how to start his bike, and once he did, he didn’t know where he could go.

Scott just drove, trying to put as much distance between himself and his thoughts as he could, but they followed close behind the wheels of his motorbike. Weeks ago, he’d have given anything to hear Stiles say those words, so sure that it would have been impossible. He’d slipped and let down his guard and now that it seemed like he had everything he wanted, Scott wasn’t sure if it was even real. Why now? Was it just because Stiles was jealous of all the time he’d been spending with Jake? Was he lonely? Did he just need to get off badly enough he’d say something like that?

No, that wasn’t fair to Stiles. He’d never purposely play with his heart just for sex, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be thoughtless and ungentle.

The wolf didn’t mean to end up outside of Jake’s dorm, circling around in a decaying orbit until he ended knocking on the boy’s door.

“Scott? Are you ok-mmmf!”

It wasn’t fair to Jake either when he ambushed the boy as soon as he opened the door, kissing him hard and forcing him back into the dorm. Scott didn’t let him protest, trying to replace the maddening taste of Stiles’s mouth with something else. Jake liked him!

But Stiles loved him.

Jake moaned helplessly, trembling in Scott’s grip. He was so close, the werewolf could feel his frantic heart pounding against his chest. Good Jake, sweet, kind, wonderful Jake, with his self-deprecating laugh and generous heart. He deserved so much. He deserved everything Scott could give him, but all Scott could think about was how his hands didn’t demand more and his teeth didn’t bite back.

A strangled gasp caught in Jake’s throat, as a distant sort of horror began to rear its head. Scott was never like this, never this rough, never this cruel. He tried to pull away, but Scott’s grip was tight around his shoulders. It had always been clear that Scott was stronger, but he’d never pushed his advantage, never like this, and for one, terrifying second, he could feel the shift bleeding into his eyes. Jake’s voice caught in his throat.

"Sc- Scott!"

The alpha pulled away like he’d been hit, flinching away from his boyfriend and curling in on himself ever so slightly. This was wrong. This was so wrong, and he didn’t know what to do. Jake should have been perfect for him. Jake wouldn’t hurt him, and Jake was wonderful. Jake wasn’t his best friend.

"I’m sorry." He rasped, and nothing had him falling apart like this, not the Alpha pack, not the Nogitsune, or the Benefactor, but he couldn’t bear to look at the other man. "I’m so sorry, Jake."

"It’s okay. It’s fine," Jake insisted. He didn’t know what was going on, but he didn’t need to. He tried to reach out to his boyfriend, meaning to pull him closer. "What’s…?"

Scott flinched away, hands curled into fists. The wolf rode too close to his skin, clawing at his insides with an unhappy howl. He’d been so good at catering to his human side, somedays he could almost forget that a monster prowled his veins, but the beast didn’t want kind and sweet. Jake had no idea what he was capable of or all the things he’d done and there was no way to explain. He kept his hands clenched, too sharp nails digging into his palm and red bleeding into the brown as he tried to calm his heartbeat.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, voice rough and broken.

“Scott, what’s going on? It’s okay you just-, I wasn’t expecting that. I’m fine.” Jake wanted to wrap his arms around the other boy, but something stopped him from touching Scott. He looked the same and somehow unlike himself, dangerously still with an air of something powerful. It was confusing, Jake had never seen Scott like this before and let his hand drop, shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot. “Please talk to me?”

“I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me, I was just surprised.”

Scott hesitated, slowly uncurling human fingers from palms sporting shallow bloody cuts as he looked at his boyfriend with dark eyes. “You’re amazing, you know that? You’re smart and funny and incredibly hot and I-I, I’m not good enough for you.”

“Are you kidding?!” Jake huffed a laugh. “You’re kind of this force of nature, Scott. You’re honestly the most loving guy I’ve ever met.”

“You deserve better than I can give you.”

“Is this about the kiss? It was a little out of left field, but I’m fine! You don’t have to do this, please Scott. Please don’t.”

The wolf shook his head, pulling the boy into a hug and kissing the side of his face. He felt the stuttering rhythm the moment Jake’s heart broke.

"Was it something I did?"

Scott wanted to hold Jake until he smiled again, like he had a chance of making things right, turning back the clock until he could go back to kissing the wonderful boy in his arms. Except a sick sort of relief coursed through his veins even as he held Jake close, and it made him want to gag. Scott couldn’t apologize enough, but he tripped over his own words and eventually tripped out the door, a coward and a fool. This time, he had nowhere to run to, and nowhere he wanted to go.

But he started his bike, and focused on it instead of the uneven heartbeat he’d gotten so used to tracking. He’d messed up. He’d messed up so badly. He’d hurt those he cared about for no good reason, and he only had himself to blame.

The Student Union closed at midnight, but almost everybody cleared out way before then. On a weekend, only lonely stragglers and the wifi-less bothered to stick around. There was no one to see Scott trudge through the building. He found a quiet spot by the Student Council office, far enough away that he couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing to his head. Right now, Scott didn’t want to be around himself either.

—

"Scott…?"

Warm fabric draped over him. It smelled like stale cheese curls, dust bunnies, and home. Scott inched closer before he could wake, and there was a heavy arm over his shoulders, encouraging him. Stiles looked like he hadn’t slept in a week and was running on Red Bull and espresso again. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

Scott let himself be led back to their dorm room, crawling into bed and pulling the sheets up over his head without a word. Stiles watched worriedly as days passed and the wolf barely moved except to shuffle to the bathroom before rolling himself back into bed and hiding away from the world. This was the summer of Allison Argent all over again, except then at least he had Melissa to help coax Scott out of his room and force him to face the world. His friend wouldn’t even let him get close, growling like an animal the one time he tried to climb into bed behind Scott until Stiles backed off, defeated.

This was all his fault. He was the one who was supposed to be taking care of Scott, some best friend he turned out to be if he couldn’t even get the other boy out of bed.

Scott spent most of his time sleeping and never wanted to move. He was stuck here, he’d backed himself into a corner and there wasn’t a way out. If he could have ever had a chance to move on, Jake would have been the one. They’d worked so well together and just being around him had made Scott happy, but he wasn’t Stiles and it would always come back to that. It wasn’t the kindness and the compassion, he wanted the edges and the selfishness and the inappropriate jokes at his expense. He wanted someone who knew exactly how to push him and how far they could go, someone who knew every part of him and could just fit themselves perfectly into his life. He screwed up with Jake and he screwed up with Stiles, he wasn’t ready to move on even though he knew it was impossible to go back to the way things were.

It was three days later when Scott finally shuffled out of his room, hair sticking up on one side and pajama pants slung low around his waist. “I broke up with Jake.”

Stiles jumped to his feet, hands outstretched like he wanted to hold the wolf. “Scott! I…figured. Are you okay?”

“I don’t want to hook up anymore. You and me, I can’t. I’m not good at keeping things separate, so I want to just be friends. Can we do that?”

“Yeah.” Stiles wanted to protest, shove Scott against the wall and kiss him until he forced the sadness from his mouth but he held himself still. “We can do that.”

Stiles’s heart gave him away, and Scott never thought that could make him so angry. His hands curled into fists, and he could feel all the blood drain out of his face. He shouldn’t feel this way. Stiles was his best friend, and he would do anything for him. It wasn’t Stiles’s fault that Scott had dug himself a grave. Scott just wanted it to end.

"So you can stop lying," the wolf spat, hackles raised. "I’m not going anywhere!"

Because the easiest way to make Stiles Stilinski want something was to tell him he couldn’t have it. He ate liver pate for a month because the Sheriff once told him it was for grown ups only, but the moment his Dad offered to share, Stiles dropped it like a bad habit. Scott never wanted to be liver pate, but now he was. It sucked. It hurt and confused him, and Scott hated how he just couldn’t ignore it.

Stiles recoiled, startled. No one else knew Stiles as well as Scott did. He knew the moment Stiles decided he’d be angry instead of apologetic, and not for the first time, Scott wished he could rewrite history.

"You’re right, I don’t want to be just friends - that’s not enough anymore. We can’t go back, and going back’s stupid," Stiles snarled, taking a daring step forward, and Scott refused to give any space up.

"You broke up with him because you want to be with me. The difference between us is I won’t let you go."

“I don’t want to be with you!” It wasn’t the first time Scott was glad Stiles couldn’t read the lie in his heartbeat, but his best friend never needed wolf powers to know everything about him. “I broke up with him because he deserved better than I could give him, it didn’t have anything to do with you.” It was the truth and not the truth. There was no way he could have given anyone else a real chance when all he thought about was how everything compared to Stiles.

“That is such bullshit, Scott.” Stiles spat, closing the distance and refusing to back down as the wolf stood his ground. They were both too stubborn, neither one willing to retreat. “He wasn’t right for you, that doesn’t mean he could have done any better.”

“He could have been right for me! He should have been.” For the first time, Scott faltered. If he could have chosen, Jake would have been the right one all along. It would have been nice to finally love someone who could love him back and stop beating his heart against a wall. He really thought that he had a chance to move on and let go, but Stiles was too much a part of him that he didn’t know how to fit with anyone else. “Going back is the smart thing to do. You and me, we were supposed to just be easy and fun. I know this is my fault, I’m the one who changed, not you and it’s not your fault.”

“That doesn’t mean we can go back again. Maybe I changed too.” Stiles knew he could be a bully, but it didn’t stop him from crowded into the wolf’s space and pushing back.

"But all I know’s I never stopped wanted to take care of you, Scott."

The alpha still flinched when Stiles reached out for him, but that only strengthened Stiles’ resolve. He hooked an arm around the other boy’s waist, pulling Scott closer until he could rest his forehead against Scott’s. When the wolf shivered, Stiles could feel it, but he was careful now, like he hadn’t been before, like he should have been.

Stiles always believed that friendship, like respect, had to be earned. If someone couldn’t keep up, they deserved to be dropped. Scott was the exception that proved the rule. Stiles would tear apart the universe if it meant making it fit with his best friend.

"I thought about you," he whispered. "Every time I was with someone else. Didn’t even realize I was doing it just - it’d come up. How much better it was when you kissed, how good it felt waking up next to you. How I really, really wanted to see you happy. I didn’t mean to hurt you… You gotta believe me."

Scott wished he didn’t believe Stiles, but the boy’s pulse remained even and he always trusted his friend, even when he knew he shouldn’t. He stopped trying to pull away, leaning into Stiles’s body like he didn’t have any other choice. “I did too. I tried so hard to let you go, he was such a nice guy and I thought it might finally…it just wasn’t you. Fuck you, dude. What did you do to me?”

He nosed against Stiles’s cheek, almost shy when they’d always been so comfortable and easy with each other. It had been different when it was just sex, rough and messy and shameless. He was vulnerable now. His heart had been exposed and Scott hated every minute of this. It shouldn’t be awkward with Stiles, he shouldn’t be so nervous. It didn’t stop him from sliding his arms around the other boy’s neck or leaning in to catch his mouth. Kissing was so much better than trying to find the words, he was never much good at talking.

“I know you’d never hurt me if you knew. I trust you.”

Stiles breathed easy for the first time in weeks, crowding into his partner’s space and pinning him against the wall. He kissed Scott until his head spun and his best friend shivered under his hands, coaxing out soft, broken sounds with sweet, gentle kisses that never stopped demanding everything Scott had to offer.

"I love you," Stiles rasped, voice shot and gravel rough, but Scott had stopped fighting. He felt so good in Stiles’ arms. "I love you so much. I’m sorry. You don’t even know, Scott. I’m sorry."

A possessive thrill nipped at his nerves, and Stiles ran his fingers through dark locks, leaving them twice as messy. Scott made the sweetest sounds when he was happy. This time, he let Stiles drag him back to bed, let him cover him in blankets and keep him warm. Stiles plastered himself against Scott’s side, and when Scott buried his face in his throat, Stiles’ heart soared.

"I should be mad at you," Scott said, voice so helplessly unhappy it twisted Stiles’ gut. Scott could never hold a grudge when he was the one wronged. He hadn’t spoken to Stiles for two whole days that time they tore Melissa’s scrub suit in half, but if he was the one taking punches, he forgave almost instantly. Stiles never stopped taking advantage of that.

"You should be eating real food," Stiles whispered, pressing a kiss to Scott’s brow. "Getting some rest."

Scott’s hands fisted in the back of his shirt.

"I’m gonna take care of you." Stiles promised.

“I love you.” The words sounded real when he said them and Scott smiled into Stiles’s neck. Getting here had been painful and the lessons learned came at a price, but his best friend made promises and Scott knew it was the truth. This was new territory for all that they’d crossed the boundary from friends into friends with something more and it was frightening in a way he’d never been with Stiles before, but maybe that was a good thing. There was still so much to map out between them, a space where love and friendship met in a messy complicated mix. He wasn’t quite sure what it meant yet, but it felt good. It felt right. “I’m gonna take care of you too. You look like you haven’t slept in days, dude. Take a nap with me.”

Stiles didn’t waste any words protesting, slotting their bodies together like puzzle pieces. He could sleep for a thousand years like this if Scott would let him. Maybe this was the only way he could really sleep anymore.

“Stiles?”

“Yeah, Scotty?”

“I didn’t really mean it when I said we shouldn’t hook up again. Just buy me dinner first next time?”

Stiles rolled Scott over with a relieved laugh.

___

Things with Jake were awkward, but they managed to smile at each other whenever they passed and eventually found a distant, polite sort of friendship. It was impossible to be angry and even if it hurt to watch the way Scott laughed and leaned against Stiles like no one else existed in the world. The boy nursed his heartache quietly and never noticed when Scott’s tall, curly-headed friend came up to visit and watched him thoughtfully before making up an excuse to introduce himself as Isaac.

Isaac. It was a nice name and it came with an equally nice smile.

For Scott, being with Stiles was simultaneously so much better and so much worse than he ever expected. Except not really worse?

Stiles kissed him every time they met up now. Every ‘hi’ came with a quick peck, and even if Stiles didn’t like holding hands because he never knew what to do with his other one, he plastered himself against Scott’s side like an over-enthusiastic barnacle whenever he got the chance. They spent an afternoon moving both their beds into one room and clearing out a closet. Scott found Stiles slept best when someone was spooning him from behind, and sometimes he snored so loud he woke himself up. Stiles started introducing Scott to everyone they meet as ‘his Scott,’ even to the people they already knew.

The transition was almost laughably easy. A lot of ‘the worse’ came from how little actually changed, and Scott couldn’t always stop himself from agonizing over what could have happened if he’d just acted sooner, if he’d just stepped up and said something. But Stiles had also gotten a lot more aggressive with his - Stiles. He said he liked meeting Scott’s friends, but sometimes, Scott caught him going squinty-eyed at anyone who got too close, and nothing but a french fry to the head could dissuade Stiles. One time, Scott even came home to find Stiles rolling around his bed, wearing fifteen of Scott’s shirts and half as many of his pants. Scent marking, Stiles claimed. Scott wasn’t sure that was real, but peeling off each layer became his favorite thing.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find Tmautog's awesome fics [here](http://nevertrustastilesthing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You can read Rune's stuff [Here](http://fightingforthepack.tumblr.com/) and find her on tumblr at [ Runicscribbles](runicscribbles.tumblr.com)


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